


wrap my arms around you and pretend

by icarusinflight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Infidelity, F/M, M/M, Past Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 11:29:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17765960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusinflight/pseuds/icarusinflight
Summary: “Remus,” he says, voice quiet, almost a whisper. “Can I — can I help, like this?”





	wrap my arms around you and pretend

**Author's Note:**

> There are dubious consent and cheating themes in this fic.  
> Please proceed with caution. See end note for more details.
> 
> Thank you to [shiftylinguini](https://shiftylinguini.tumblr.com/) for the beta, all remaining errors are my own!

Remus slams his hands down on the table, ending the conversation as silence falls and all the eyes at the table turn to look at him.

He can see Dora looking at him, eyebrows pulled in concern, and confusion. He's not looking at Sirius, can't look at Sirius again, but even without looking at him, Remus can still feel Sirius’ eyes on him, feels like they’re trying to stare right through to Remus’s being.  

He needs to get away.

He can still feel everyone’s eyes on him as he leaves the room, heedless of the informal meeting of Order members underway. They can carry on without him, Remus just can’t bring himself to care at the moment. He retreats to the safety of the room he calls his own, closing the door as if that can shut out the all the ghosts of the past.

Sirius does it intentionally. He knows that. There might have been a time Remus could have dealt with that, but now…

He knows Sirius blames Remus for how they are now, and he can’t blame him for that. Remus blames himself really. But he'd lost Sirius before, and how was he to know that this time wasn't going to the the final time. How many times must he sit and watch Sirius be taken from him, how much heartbreak is one man meant to take?

He loves Sirius, has done for as long as he can. It's the sort of love that will never die out. Their love is like a phoenix, burning each other up, only to start the cycle all over again.

His love for Dora has done nothing to extinguish it. And he does love her, truly, is happy with her, and for all their love doesn't feel like it's consuming when they're together, it's still everything he could want. In this, he's found the love and stability he always craved.

He's found the beginnings of a new family. A family to call his own.

If only he could get away, he thinks, if only there was some distance he could put between them. But he can no more leave as a known werewolf, than Sirius as a convicted murderer. Dora at least, can leave, and he's happy for her to have that. Grimmauld place is a prison filled with the ghosts of old memories and what ifs, but they’re Sirius and Remus’, and Dora shouldn’t have to be stuck in here with them.

Sirius, at least, seems to leave her be. For all his frustration Remus can see bubbling beneath the surface, it's all directed squarely at _Remus._ He still laughs and jokes with Dora. That's almost as heartbreaking, flashes of what could have been. If only Sirius hadn't been stuck in his household, if only his Andromeda hadn't been cut out so completely, if only the war hadn't happened.

_If only._

The knock on the door is gentle, and it's that which pulls Remus from his thoughts. He’s not expecting Sirius when he opens the door, looking uncertain and almost _contrite_ and it throws Remus for a loop, the sight of him here. In all the time they’ve been staying under the same roof together, he’s never come to Remus, they bicker, and Sirius snarks and Remus hasn’t, of yet, figured out how not to rise to the bait.

“May I come in?” he asks. Sirius never asks, hasn’t ever, not even back in the day when the answer would have always been yes. Sirius was always barging in, and Remus was always happy to have him there, even when it was harder, even when he was in pain, or angry; even then, everything was always easier with Sirius.

In the old days anyway.

“Remus,” he says, voice quiet, almost a whisper. “Can I — can I help, like this?” His hand resting gently on Remus’ shoulder.

He must be really angry then, or upset. He's hiding it well, something the old Sirius could have never done, and that tugs at Remus, how much he's changed. It had never been Remus, back in the day. Not even in the days before _Moony_ , it was always some ridiculous name, a million and one variations of his name that he can’t even remember. It was Sirius who had first called him loopy lupin. It had never felt like an insult from Sirius, more an affection shared. Remus had never had someone who gave him a nickname before, and it was so different that he could hardly be blamed for the way he'd fallen so completely.

The first crush is always the deepest.

“Let me help,” Sirius whispers, “let me make it better.”

 _It's too late_ , Remus swallow the words down, biting the inside of his cheek to keep the words from tumbling out.

Once Sirius was his everything, sneaking out after dark to lie by the lake, Sirius bringing smokes, or butterbeers, or something stronger. Once they'd fooled around in almost every room in the castle. It had been a curse the year he'd returned to teach, the unwelcome memories popping up everywhere. The desk where Sirius brought him to the brink before they rushed off to the bathrooms, the alcove they'd left dishevelled and breathless and smelling like sex without a care in the world.

Once, Remus had thought Sirius was his world, that it would always be the two of them together, lives intertwined until the very end.

Now he's sure of it. He's just not sure if that's what's best for them.

“What can I do to make it better?” Sirius asks, hands trailing down, the touch light, almost hesitant. Sirius was never hesitant, back in the day, and that, too, throws Remus off balance. It's never been like this, not even after he'd come back from Azkaban, when they'd been clumsy and rough, all desperation and want, the need to touch after so many years kept apart. It's nothing like how they've been, but this situation is nothing like they've had before. Everything is changed, nothing is the same.

As different as it is Remus can still feel himself reacting, hands coming to grip at Sirius’ arm, his neck, pulling Sirius down. He tries to make it harder, tougher, grip almost bruising tight like maybe that will kick-start this into familiar territory.

Sirius seems hesitant to return his attempts, keeping things soft where he’d normally fight for it, push back just to feel the edge of Remus’ control. It’s a game they play, have been playing longer than Remus cares to think about, and Sirius might not be playing his part, but he’s here, and that’s enough for Remus. When Sirius climbs onto his lap it’s the easiest thing in the world to tilt his head up and capture his lips in a kiss.

Sirius keeps the kiss light, and far too gentle for Remus’ liking, especially after the barbs Sirius has been sending his way all night. There’s something broken and jagged between them now, and doing _this_ won’t help anything in the least, but Remus is so tired of the want constantly thrumming beneath his veins. It calls to him, just like the call of the wolf with the moon — not that he likes to think about that either. Easier instead to lose himself, give himself over to the moment, as he moves them, dislodging Sirius from his lap to tip him onto the bed, pinning Sirius with his weight.

Sirius gasps and Remus cuts the noise off with his own lips, making the kiss rougher, bruising their lips as he grinds his own growing erection down into Sirius. It’s been so long Sirius almost feels foreign beneath him, the familiarity they once had gone. It hurts Remus, that it’s come to this, that somewhere along the way everything he once knew about Sirius has changed. It cuts him deeper than all the scars that litter his body, a wound that will take longer to heal, if it even can.

He only breaks away when his lungs start screaming a reminder to breath, and when Remus pulls back to look at Sirius, they’re both gasping for it, breathes coming fast.

Somehow it’s that, looking down at Sirius, which brings it all crashing back down to him.

“Sirius,” he chokes out, his voice barely a croak. “Sirius I can’t — I’m with Dora now. This can’t happen.”

The hurt on Sirius’ face is expected, and Remus feels it too, a pain from this, from everything. There’s been so much pain.

And then the look of pain is morphing into something else, Sirius’ features fading away, until it’s a different set of eyes staring back at him, different features that he is oh so familiar with.

“You always recognise my scent,” she says, and Remus feels his whole word tilt.

**Author's Note:**

> Remus kisses Tonks, when he thinks she's Sirius.  
> Dubious consent due to mistaken identity, and Remus kisses her thinking he is cheating.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Comments and Kudos give me life  
> Find me at tumblr at [candybarrnerd](http://candybarrnerd.tumblr.com/)


End file.
